


Twilight Love

by SomethingBlue221b



Category: Shades of Magic - V. E. Schwab
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 11:49:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16701982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomethingBlue221b/pseuds/SomethingBlue221b
Summary: Holland and Rhy are not meant to be.





	Twilight Love

 

 _"The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,_  
_But in ourselves, that we are underlings."_

**_Julius Caesar (I, ii, 140-141)_ **

The meetings occurred haphazardly. Without forewarning, Holland would appear, dark locks framing his evanescent face. His emerald eye would gaze out towards Rhy calmly, and Rhy would feel his breath leave his throat.

              Palms suddenly sweaty, Rhy would remain frozen until Holland gracefully walked over until he stood only a few inches from Rhy. Their eyes would meet, and Rhy always struggled to decipher any hints of emotion hidden in Holland’s eyes. Holland would wait then, his face unmoving and cool, until Rhy closed the distance between them and pressed their lips together.

            Holland was always slow to respond, marred by a hesitancy that Rhy couldn’t bypass. But Rhy would continue the kiss, softly and slowly because the Danes were cruel and the scars littered Holland’s body and Rhy would be damned if he caused any more pain.

            Slowly but surely, the kiss would devolve into passion and skin would be drawn close as clothes were lost. Heat would fill the air, gasps punctuating the silence, and warmth radiated in their skin. Rhy forgot how to breathe with Holland, forgot how to think, and while Holland always remained reserved, Rhy knew their meetings had a similar effect.

            Rhy still remembered their first meeting, how he had nearly jumped out his skin when he saw Holland standing like a ghost in the corner. He must have snuck past the guards, and Rhy worried about Holland’s intent. The Danes were no friends with his family, and thoughts of a kidnapping and assassination struck his mind. Drawing in a deep breath, Rhy shook past the vicious memories of the Shadows.

            “Prince,” Holland had stated, his voice vaporous in the evening air. Rhy shuddered at the almost seductive lowness of the word.

            “Holland,” Rhy replied, “What brings you here on this fine evening?” Holland stared at him, his countenance an unrevealing mask. A moment passed before Holland responded.

            “I come on my own accords.”

            “Well, that’s good to hear.” Rhy flashed a smile at Holland, relaxing as thoughts of a nefarious Dane plot left his head.

            Holland tilted his head, and Rhy could swear a brief look of confusion crossed his face. Rhy waited for him to speak.

            “Do you wish for me to leave?” The question vanished in the air as soon as it left Holland’s lips. Rhy considered for a moment, before shaking his head. Sure, Kell would hate knowing that Rhy was going to spend time with Holland, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

            “Sit down,” Rhy said, gesturing towards the couch. “I can get some wine.” Holland moved with a calculated slowness towards the couch. Rhy went for the cupboard where he kept the liquor and removed two glasses and a bottle of sweet wine. Pouring the wine, he handed one of the glasses to Holland.

            Rhy sat down and gazed at Holland. He had never really talked to the man before with the exception of brief conversations concerning the two Kings, but his father had warned him of Holland’s power. He had also told him about the control the Danes exerted over Holland, and Rhy had felt sick when he had heard.

            Now the man sat in front of him, his skeletal yet elegant fingers clenched around the glass. He stared coolly and seemingly undisturbed by the strange situation. Charcoal hair fell in front of his eyes, and before Rhy could process the thought, he reached forward and brushed it aside. His thumb grazed Holland’s cheek, and Holland averted his eyes.

            “Well,” Rhy began. “It’s not every day that an Antari, excluding Kell, suddenly shows up in my room. Is something wrong?”

            Holland shook his head. His words fell from his mouth like pebbles onto the floor. “I thought it would be best to meet you.”

            “We’ve met before,” Rhy stated quizzically. His father often let Rhy watch as Holland delivered the messages from the Danes.

            “No, that doesn’t count.”       

            Rhy leaned back. He thought for a moment. “I can’t imagine the Danes would want you to befriend the prince of Ansari.”

            Holland fell silent, his dark eyes gleaming over Rhy. “They don’t want me to talk to you, but I do.” His voice was low and gravelly and almost seductive, and Rhy felt his heartbeat quicken.

            “Really? And why is that?” Rhy teased, smiling softly at Holland. “Maybe my devastating good looks? Or my scintillating wit?” Holland swallowed, and Rhy swore that he saw something flicker in Holland’s eyes that was more than calm or anger that occasionally consumed his eyes.

            Holland turned away and stood up suddenly. He ran a hand down his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles. “I’ve extended my welcome. I should go,” he murmured. Rhy almost let him go. He had no business pushing an Antari, especially one that served the Danes. His father had warned about the danger Holland could present, Kell had ranted about the other Antari’s faults, and his kingdom wouldn’t be pleased by the choice Rhy was about to make.

            His heart still stung by Alucard’s departure, but taking a deep breath, he stood up and closed the distance between them. He searched for some sign of confirmation in Holland’s gaze, but it remained impassive. He faltered for a brief moment, unsure of how to proceed.

            Then Rhy, almost missing the words because Holland spoke so quietly like a distant star, heard Holland respond, “I came for your kindness.”

            Rhy regarded Holland for a moment, his charcoal hair and ebony skin, his thin frame and sharp cheekbones, and the eye that shone like a hard gem and the other that bled black.  Holland met his gaze, and Rhy could sense an opening in the man. An opening so slight it felt like the removal of a single brick in a wall of thousands. However, the opening was enough for Rhy, and before he could consider the consequences, he closed the space between them.

            Rhy had expected Holland’s lips to be harder than they were, almost as if they were slabs of granite instead of the gentleness of a rose petal. He had expected Holland to pull away and cast aside the prince, but Holland remained still, and even though he did nothing to encourage the kiss, he did nothing to stop it.

            Rhy continued to kiss Holland, and it was unlike anything he had done with Alucard. Alucard kissed hard and passionately. He kissed Rhy like every moment he might lose him, and Rhy had reveled in the feeling of being desired.

            Holland did none of that. He didn’t even respond to the kiss initially, but when he did, his mouth moved slowly as if Rhy would break any second. The pressure was light, and it dove Rhy mad. Subtle and seductive, Holland kissed like an intoxication.

            Rhy brought his hand up and entangled it in Holland’s hair. His fingers twirled through locks, and he smiled against Holland’s lips. Nothing more was needed for this kiss, and Rhy quickly lost track of time. Eternity consumed the moment.

            Eventually, the eternity came to an end. Holland pulled back, and Rhy untangled his fingers from the loose strands of hair. Holland peered intently at Rhy, and Rhy felt words die on his tongue.

            The moment stretched itself out. Long seconds passed. Holland stepped back, and Rhy shuddered at the sudden loss of warmth. Rhy reached out again for Holland, but in a blink, Holland had disappeared from the room. Alone, Rhy sat heavily down and placed his hands in his hair. Thoughts pounded through his head in an unrelenting drum beat. Confusion and wonder saturated his mind, and he shut his eyes to try to make sense of what had just happened.

             That was the first meeting.

             The second was much longer.

             It had begun with another midnight meeting and ended with Holland tucked safely in Rhy’s arms and their limbs entangled.

             There had been a third meeting. Then a fourth. A fifth. A sixth.

             Rhy had eventually lost track.

             The stars had aligned to provide their moments together. Rhy grasped at Holland greedily because he knew it took one small cosmic shift to cast them apart.

             They had lost themselves in the twilight of their love, and Rhy never wanted anyone to find him.

             Someone would, though. He was to be king and threats assaulted him from every side. Holland was enslaved to maniacal sadists who despised Rhy.

             It was a matter of time, and time was never on their side.

             Rhy sighed as he deepened the kiss with Holland. His hands moved to undress the other man and he reveled at the sensation of their skin pressed together.  

             Their love broke his heart, but it was the greatest love he had ever known. He poured that knowledge into the Holland, his skin aflame and his mind alive with a constellation of jealous stars and a galaxy of wandering planets.


End file.
